


Constellate

by protostar (variablestar)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Background OiSuga because we all know I live for OiSuga, Evidence that I remember Nothing from high school astronomy, Getting Together, M/M, TA Kenma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 10:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11011986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/variablestar/pseuds/protostar
Summary: Kuroo had done a lot of regrettable things in his life.  Like the time he let Lev coerce him into diving into Fukurodani's pool, dressed full in his volleyball uniform, right before a match.  Or when he thought he could fit his bookshelf up the stairwell to get it into his dorm, and ended up breaking the thing clean in half.  But this?  This topped the list.  He was going to have to transfer schools after this.Kuroo's crushing on his astronomy TA, and it's nothing, really.  Until, you know, it isn't.





	Constellate

            Kuroo Tetsurou was not a coward. No way, no how. Anyone who said anything to the contrary — Sawamura, especially — was a flat-out liar. So he was absolutely, positively not _scared_ of having his wisdom teeth pulled. It was a standard procedure that everyone else on the team had already been through, and he had nothing to worry about. He wasn’t afraid. It was four teeth, no big deal.

 

            The issue was, he was going to be high on anesthetic for who-knew-how-long after, and the only one around he trusted to take any sort of care of him was Yaku. Maybe Suga, but after seeing him take care of Oikawa after a recent sprained ankle, he wasn’t so sure he wanted him around.

 

            “I can’t believe you don’t trust me,” Oikawa huffed as they walked to the science building. “I’m a great caretaker. You should’ve seen me with Iwa-chan when he broke his nose in second year. I’m _amazing_ , Tetsu.”

 

            Kuroo raised an eyebrow. “Iwaizumi told me you made fun of him for it for weeks.”

 

            “ _Yes_ , but I also made sure he always had a fresh icepack and that he was taking his pain medication,” Oikawa countered. “I can guarantee I’d be _much_ better than _Yaku_.”

 

            “Really finding that hard to believe,” Kuroo said. “In case you’ve forgotten, I _know_ you.”

 

            He pulled open the main door to the science building and stepped in before Oikawa could cut in front of him. Maybe he’d just go home for the weekend. His mother was too busy with work to be around much, but Kuroo figured he’d spend most of his time sleeping anyway. He didn’t have much to do, other than a reading for his biology course. And—

 

            “Oh, _fuck_.”

 

            Oikawa stopped a couple steps after Kuroo did and glanced back to see what the trouble was.

 

            “My astronomy paper,” Kuroo elaborated. He started moving forward again, but his stomach was sinking. “I was supposed to do that before tomorrow so I wouldn’t have to worry about it over the weekend. The TA wants it by Wednesday if we want him to review it.”

 

            A silence hummed between them as Oikawa thought. Kuroo had intended to get this paper out of the way, emailed to Kenma, and forgotten about before the surgery. Because he _knew_ he wasn’t going to want to deal with it after getting his teeth pulled, and chances were, he wouldn’t have it done by the time Kenma wanted it. And Kuroo _needed_ him to review it. Well, okay, _need_ was a strong word. He’d probably do fine without the TA’s comments. But it’d make Kuroo feel a lot better if he had them.

 

            “Your astronomy TA?” Oikawa asked. “The short, blonde one?” Kuroo nodded. “The one you’re crushing on?”

 

            “ _Oikawa!_ “ Kuroo whipped his head around, expecting to spot Kenma lurking a few paces away, just close enough to overhear their conversation. Something Kuroo absolutely _did not want_.

 

            “What? He _is_ the one you were talking about the other day, isn’t he?”

 

            So, okay, maybe Kuroo had a thing for his astronomy TA. Just a little one. He was cute and had really nice handwriting and sometimes he made space puns that not everyone got, but Kuroo always did. But they’d barely even spoken before — once, over a short answer question on a test that Kuroo was curious about a missed mark for. It was only a little crush, that he would get over once the semester ended and Kuroo didn’t see him three days out of the week anymore. It definitely wasn’t something that Oikawa needed to bring up. In the middle of the hallway. Where anyone could hear.

 

            In hindsight, it was also probably something Kuroo shouldn’t have told Oikawa about in the first place.

 

            “That doesn’t mean we need to discuss it right now!” Kuroo hissed. “I’ve got to get to class. I’ll meet you after, yeah?”

 

            “Sure, sure,” Oikawa said with a casual wave of his hand. “Tell Kenma I said hello, won’t you?”

 

            “Fuck off.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Compose Email**

Dearest Kenma,

 

okay, i know you said that, yuo know, us studetns would be able to send you our essays for class to loo kover before we turn them in but we’d have to get them to you before 19 October, buttt i got my widsom teeth Out and i’ve not reactedf well to the surgery or the medicationn and i dkont’ know? if i will be able to have my paper finished by Wednesday and i was wondering if there was any wasy i could send you my paper at a later date??? i wantto do rerally well on this paper becauseee i like to do well i n all my classes. sir i worked very hard please and ii thought i would be albe to have it done on time butt the doctor said i most likely not be noraml again until at leaset tUesday evenin. if you say no it would be okay i mean i owuld be very sad but it would be fine but i fyou said yes i would be very happpy. Thank you kenmo, my friend.

 

Kuroo Tetsoruo

 

PS i will answer alll your questions in cal ss forever os you don’t have to deal with any more akward silences adn i’ll buy youu a stapler htat doesn’t always jam

 

love you bye

 

**Email Sent**

 

* * *

 

 

            Kuroo had done a lot of regrettable things in his life. Like the time he let Lev coerce him into diving into Fukurodani's pool, dressed full in his volleyball uniform, right before a match. Or when he thought he could fit his bookshelf up the stairwell to get it into his dorm, and ended up breaking the thing clean in half. But this? This topped the list. He was going to have to transfer schools after this.

 

            “You didn’t even spell your own name right,” Oikawa marveled. The look on his face as he stared down at Kuroo’s phone screen was somewhere between amused and fascinated. “I mean, how do you _manage_ , Tetsu-chan?”

 

            Kuroo only responded with a drawn-out groan into the couch’s throw pillow, his voice cracking halfway through it. Maybe he’d transfer to somewhere in the Miyagi prefecture. He could be Sawamura’s roommate.

 

            “The ‘love you’ is a nice touch,” Oohira noted.

 

            This time, the groan was higher pitched.   “Spike a volleyball directly into my _face_.”

 

            Oikawa snorted a laugh. “Your face is already swollen enough. Is that really what you want?”

 

            “Put me out of my misery.”

 

            Kuroo heard the door open and slam shut, but he didn’t bother looking up to see who it was. Yaku or Suga, probably. Maybe Bokuto, if he was done with lunch early.

 

            “Get your ass up and take your pain meds.” Yaku. “I don’t want to hear you bitch about how sore you are in a couple hours because you missed a dose again.”

 

            “Oh, mother, you’re so kind, really,” Kuroo muttered. Still, he rolled off the couch and onto his feet so he could drag himself into the kitchen, where Yaku was setting down bags of groceries. “Yaku, do me a favor and just stab me in the face. I’ll even go get you a stool so you can reach.”

 

            “Fuck you!”

 

            “Ow! Fuck _you_! That was my fucking _shin_ you just kicked!”

 

            “Tetsu, your _meds_.”

 

            Kuroo shot Yaku one final glare before crossing over to the counter, where the little orange bottle sat. Nothing about today was going particularly well for him, apparently. Because for starters, there was the awful, awful swelling of his entire face, and then there was the realization that he’d sent Kenma that _email_ , and now, his _shin_ —

 

            “Yaku-chan! Come read this email Tetsu sent while he was drugged up,” Oikawa called from the living room.

 

            “Yaku-chan, murder me,” Kuroo said.

 

            “Say Yaku-chan one more time, see what happens,” Yaku snapped. He sent a pointed look to Oohira, who raised his hands in defense. But he did also go to Oikawa’s side to look over the message on Kuroo’s phone.

 

            The worst part about it was, Kenma hadn’t responded yet, but it’d been over twenty-four hours since Kuroo had sent the email. Surely, he would’ve read it by now. Kuroo knew from a single prior experience that his astronomy class’s TA was quick about replying to messages. So he would’ve definitely _seen_ Kuroo’s email, and just didn’t know how to respond in a professional manner. Because, well. The email had kind of been a hot mess.

 

            He’d finished it with _love you_. _Love you!_ Who _did_ that?

 

            He knew the second Yaku really got into it, because he let out a choked laugh that he'd clearly been trying to hold in. As soon as that hit, he and Oikawa started giggling about the entire rest of it. There was a wheezing, "That's not the right kind of _but_ ," and a strangled, “ _if you said yes, I'd be very happy_ ,” and then Oikawa was hunched over again, cackling.

 

            This was absolutely Kuroo's nightmare.

 

            He downed both his pills and then leaned his forehead against the cabinet, trying in vain to drown out his friends' laughter. When he heard the door swing open again, he considered bailing out the window.

 

            “What animal is dying?” Suga asked as he crossed the room.

 

            “It’s just Oikawa's ugly laugh,” Yaku said.

 

            “Rude!” Oikawa squawked. “You know, I might expect this from Tetsu, but not _you_.”

 

            Suga only scoffed. “Poor baby. Care to share what you're laughing over?”

 

            “Please don’t,” Kuroo groaned.

 

            “Oh! Please do!” Suga said. He walked up behind Oikawa to peer over his shoulder, only just managing to reach by standing on his toes. “Is this Kuroo's phone?”

 

            “It is," Oohira confirmed. "Kuroo's phone, Kuroo's email.”

 

            “ _Oohira_.”

 

            “Sorry, Kuroo.”

 

            He wasn't going to be able to show his face in his astronomy class anymore. But in addition to that, Kenma still attended the same college. There was too high of a chance of Kuroo running into him on campus. He was fucked. Totally fucked. All because of his stupid wisdom teeth.

 

            “Kenmo!” Suga cried. He stumbled into Oikawa with elated laughter bubbling up, and gripped his shoulders to maintain some semblance of balance. “ _Kenmo!_ “

 

            “That's not even the best part!" Oikawa said. "Keep reading, keep reading!”

 

            Kuroo stared hard at the window. He could fit. He totally could. It'd be a tight squeeze, but he could manage, with enough dedication. But he still had to write his paper, regardless as to whether or not Kenma would be willing to read it, and his laptop was all the way back in his room.

 

            “Oh, Kuroo!” Suga was mocking him. He was. There was that _lilt_ in his voice that was specific to Sugawara Koushi. “That was so sweet of you! I’m sure he’ll appreciate the stapler.” Kuroo looked over in time to see a snickering Oikawa gently elbowing Suga. Suga elbowed him back, beaming at Kuroo. “And I’m sure Kenma loves you, too.”

 

            “Fuck off!” Kuroo said. He slunk back over to the couch and dropped face-first onto it, a regrettable choice when his cheek was the thing to take the brunt of the force of landing on the cushions. Everything was sore. The pain meds helped, sure, but that didn’t mean he was all that much less miserable.

 

            A hand landed in his hair, most likely Suga’s, and started combing through the mess of it. “Look, it’s okay, Kuroo,” Suga said. “I’m sure Kenma will understand that it was the laughing gas talking, not you. He’s probably very reasonable, and he won’t hold this against you. And if he does, fuck him.”

 

            “Oh, Tetsu would very much like to,” Oikawa said.

 

            “Bastard,” Kuroo grumbled.

 

            Suga snorted and gave Kuroo’s hair one last gentle tug before pulling away. “Come on, ‘Kawa, I want lunch. Kuroo, make sure you actually write that paper, yeah?”

 

            “Yes, dear,” Kuroo sighed.

 

            He heard the dorm’s door opening and closing again with Suga and Oikawa going, leaving Kuroo alone with Oohira and Yaku. He had to write his essay. Maybe send Kenma another email to apologize.

 

            He was never going to be able to face him again.

 

* * *

 

 

            “You haven’t missed a single class yet in the last year and a half,” Oikawa said, tugging on Kuroo’s sleeve. “Come on, quit dragging your feet. You’ll make me late to breakfast with Kou-chan.”

 

            “You’re always late to breakfast with Suga,” Kuroo said. He _didn’t_ want to go to class. At all. It was a miracle Oikawa had even managed to drag him out of bed to begin with. Every step they took as they headed towards the science building pained him.

 

            “Not true!” Oikawa cried. “I’ve been late a _few_ times, for perfectly valid reasons, all of which Kou-chan understood. But if I’m late now, the blame’s all getting pinned on you, and I don’t think you want to face my wrath, Tetsu-chan.”

 

            “What wrath?” Kuroo snorted. Oikawa could be petty and rude, sure, but he was far from intimidating. He’d never manage anything that could actually hurt anyone, especially Kuroo.

 

            “I have a screenshot of that email,” Oikawa said. “I can and will spread it everywhere if need be.”

 

            “You’re a real bastard.”

 

            “Thank you, Tetsu. Have a wonderful time in class, yeah?” Oikawa didn’t give Kuroo a chance to respond before he was pushing him in the direction of his classroom door. Petty and rude.

 

            Forgoing his usual seat towards the front, Kuroo dropped into a chair further back, more hidden from Kenma. It didn’t matter much, considering the class wasn’t that big to begin with and the room was set up in such a way that it was possible to see pretty much everyone from the front, but it made Kuroo feel a little better.

 

            That was, until Kenma actually walked into the room, the sleeves of his sweater reaching near his fingertips, scuffed sneakers nearly silent on the floor. He was too focused on his phone to look up and notice Kuroo for now, which was a _blessing_.

 

            Kenma was busy through most of the class period, looking over quizzes and lab reports. He only looked up from the desk a few times, and never once looked in Kuroo’s direction.

 

            Maybe he’d never received the email. Kuroo’s account said it had sent, but maybe it’d never gotten delivered. Kenma still hadn’t given a response when Tuesday came around, or even now that it was Wednesday, and it was really unlikely that he was just ignoring it. Because it was kind of hard to ignore. Difficult to come up with a response to, sure, but Kenma would’ve come up with _something_ by now.

 

            All hopes of that possibility were crushed when the class ended, and Kenma looked up from his laptop to call Kuroo’s name.

 

            He had definitely gotten the email.

 

            Briefly, Kuroo considered just bolting. He could run out and then promptly drop the course, and he wouldn’t have to deal with this anymore. It was an elective, after all. It wasn’t like he _needed_ this to get his degree. But that was pretty cowardly, and also, he was a little afraid of Oikawa spreading his email around to everyone.

 

            So he walked up to Kenma, feet dragging and fingers restlessly tapping against his leg.

 

            “Uh, hey, Kenma, what’s up?” Kuroo choked out. Maybe it wasn’t in regards to the email. Maybe it was about his quiz. About literally anything else. For all he knew, Kenma was curious about the upcoming volleyball match. Everyone knew Kuroo was on the team, and he’d had people approach him before about tournament schedules. Maybe Kenma was secretly a volleyball fan.

 

            “Your email,” Kenma said, gaze flat. Kuroo’s stomach flipped. “I’m going to assume it was a result of the medication.” He nodded. If he ran now, would Kenma be fast enough to catch him? “I’m still taking papers through the twenty-sixth. You’ve still got another week, so it’s fine. You’ll have plenty of time to submit it for review.” Kuroo’s shoulders sagged. Okay, that was one piece of stress lifted. Still didn’t change the whole _Kenmo_ or _love you_ thing, but it was something less to deal with, at least. “And, um. Your quiz. You’re still—“ Kenma shifted, looking down at the floor. “You've missed all the same quiz questions since the beginning of the unit. I was wondering whether you needed or wanted help with the subject.”

 

            There it was. Kuroo loved science, loved astronomy. He found all of it fascinating. He'd spent plenty of his free time during high school reading books and watching videos on endless topics surrounding it. But this was the unit that always caught him.

 

            “Oh. Um.” Trying to talk to Kenma was, apparently, much more difficult when he was sober. He matched Kenma's gaze to the uneven tiled floor, bringing one hand to the junction between his neck and shoulder. “I . . .” He didn't like the feeling of needing tutoring. He preferred independence, preferred being able to learn things on his own. But then, if it was Kenma offering . . . “That might be. Um. That might be helpful, yeah.” He glanced back up to see Kenma already watching him, stray hair falling into his face.

 

            Kenma nodded, briefly looked to the calendar laying flat on the desk. “Friday,” he said. “After class. We can work in the library, if that's okay with you.”

 

            Kuroo quickly agreed before either of them had a chance to change their mind, and that was that. Maybe by Friday, he’d be able to forget he ever sent that email to begin with.

 

* * *

 

 

            Oohira was a nice person. A lot like Kai, if Kuroo were to be totally honest. He was responsible, supportive, thoughtful. He shared Suga’s often twisted sense of humor, but overall, he was really, really nice. The issue was, he had a tendency to unintentionally dig Kuroo into a hole. Or maybe it was intentional. He spent too much time with Oikawa and Suga for it to be perfectly innocent, actually.

 

            Either way, he was not helping anything about the current situation.

 

            Kuroo had told Oikawa he might be late to their usual Friday dinner, but left the reason vague. He definitely didn’t want an interrogation about Kenma or the email. But then, of course, Oohira had to butt in.

 

            “You’re never late,” he commented. It was innocent enough, and Kuroo didn’t really suspect anything would go wrong with this. “Got other plans?”

 

            Oikawa looked up from his phone for half a second to glance at them before returning his attention to his texts. Kuroo knew he was still listening. So was Suga, clearly watching them from his spot on the armrest of Oikawa’s chair.

 

            “I’m just getting a little extra help for a class,” Kuroo said, giving a silent plea for Oohira to not take this any further.

 

            Oohira took it further.

 

            “Oh, what class?” he asked. The quirk of his eyebrow was perfectly curious, entirely without malice, but it didn’t stop Kuroo from narrowing his eyes. “I thought you had solid grades for all of them already.” He was unknowingly digging Kuroo’s grave. This wasn’t his week at all.

 

            _Don’t say it. Don’t say it. It’s not going to go well for you if you say it. Just lie, don’t say it—_

 

            “Astronomy,” Kuroo gritted out. The hammer sent the first nail into his coffin.

 

            At that, Oikawa perked up, and Suga grinned.

 

            “Astronomy?” Oikawa said. “You’re getting tutoring for astronomy?”

 

            “Are you getting tutoring from _Kenma_?” Suga teased.

 

            “Oh! Oh, oh! Is Kenma giving you _extra lessons_ , Tetsu?”

 

            “You can both shut your mouths,” Kuroo huffed. “He’s just helping me with some missed quiz questions, that’s it.”

 

            “Are you _sure_?” Suga said. “Because—“

 

            “Don’t even finish that,” Kuroo cut in. “I know where you sleep, Suga. Oikawa, I know where you keep your sweets.”

 

            Oikawa let out an indignant squawk. “You do _not!_ Kou-chan doesn’t even know that, how would _you_ —“

 

            “I’m resourceful,” Kuroo said. “Look, all I wanted was to tell you I’ll be late for dinner, and don’t let Bokuto eat off my plate, _please_. Is that too much, really?”

 

            “We understand, Kuroo,” Oohira said. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

 

            Kuroo still worried about it.

 

* * *

 

 

            Kuroo couldn’t focus through half of class on Friday. He kept thinking about the fact that he’d be sitting alone with Kenma after, going over old quizzes and missed concepts. He did his best to listen to the professor as he went over notes, and paid as much attention as he could to Kenma when he started going over a short review, but the dwindling time was still hanging over his head.

 

            When the end of the hour finally came, Kuroo watched everyone else filter out of the room, save for Kenma and a couple of classmates who had questions for him. Kuroo hung back near his desk, answered a couple texts from Bokuto, watched the clock.

 

            It would be fine. Kenma would try to help him understand this one little concept, and then they would go their separate ways. Easy.

 

            “Kuro.”

 

            Kuroo looked away from the notes left scrawled across the board to find he and Kenma were the last two remaining.

 

            _Don’t think about Kenmo._

 

            “Right, let’s go,” Kuroo said, pulling a smile. He let Kenma through the door first, then stepped up to his side as they started down the hallway.

 

            “Are you okay going to the café instead of the library?” Kenma asked. He glanced at Kuroo for just a second before retraining his eyes on the path ahead of them. “I missed breakfast, and food’s not allowed in the library.”

 

            “Café’s fine,” Kuroo said. “I wouldn’t mind a snack anyway.”

 

            They walked in silence the rest of the way to the small café just at the edge of campus, where Kuroo usually sat to study with Oikawa and Bokuto before exams. Kuroo paid for Kenma’s slice of pie, just to thank him for taking the time to help him, despite Kenma’s brief protest.

 

            Kenma picked a booth in the back corner, and Kuroo slid in across from him. Just an hour. Two, max. That was it, and then Kuroo could go have dinner and forget anything ever happened. Okay.

 

            “I figured we could go over your last few quizzes, to see where you went wrong,” Kenma said, “and then look back over the sections of notes you’re not getting. If that’s okay.”

 

            Kuroo nodded, and waited for Kenma to pull notes and folders from his backpack. For the next hour, he listened to Kenma talk about planet rotations and revolutions, through every detail and minor tangent. He answered his questions and made his own comments, and it was an easy       flow. It was actually kind of _nice_.

 

            Once Kenma had finished reviewing the last section of the notes — explained more in depth and in a way that was easier to understand than the professor’s words — he gave Kuroo a shorter practice quiz to work on.

 

            He looked up once he was finished, only to find Kenma on his phone, eyebrows pulled together as he stared hard at the screen. It was a very specific, very familiar look of frustration, and Kuroo could easily figure out what the cause of it was before he actually looked at Kenma’s phone.

 

            “That’s that puzzle game, isn’t it?” Kuroo said. Kenma looked up, nodded. It was a terrible, awful, _addicting_ game that Kuroo and Yaku had spent too many nights pissed over, trying to figure out how to get past the trickier parts. “What level are you at?”

 

            “Eighty-three,” Kenma said.

 

            “ _Eighty_ —“ Kuroo dropped his pencil onto the table and leaned closer to Kenma’s screen. He was, in fact, on the eighty-third level, which was _impossible_. There was _no way_. He dropped back into his seat, mouth hanging open. “ _How?_ “

 

            Kenma shrugged. “It’s not so difficult, if you don’t think so hard about it.”

 

            “The look you’re giving your phone says otherwise,” Kuroo commented, to which Kenma narrowed his eyes. “Just saying. How’d you get through forty-one? Bo and I have been stuck on it all week.”

 

            Kenma hummed and looked back down at the game. “You have to go around the back. Sometimes the path isn’t where you can see. Are you finished?” He reached for Kuroo’s paper, and took it only after Kuroo nodded.

 

            _Eighty-three._ Ridiculous.

 

            There were a few short minutes where Kenma scanned over Kuroo’s answers, passed the page back, and told him they were all right. With that, there wasn’t much left to do but for Kenma to tell him to send him an email if he ever needed more help, and for Kuroo to thank him again and start heading back to the dorm for dinner.

 

* * *

 

 

**Compose Email**

 

Hey Kenma,

 

            So, I know when you said to email you if I needed more help, you meant with astronomy, but how the _hell_ are you supposed to get through 47? It’s been three hours. I’ve tried everything.

 

Kuroo

 

**Draft Saved**

 

* * *

 

 

            “Kuroo! You’re here!” Suga said as he stepped into the suite. He dropped his backpack onto the floor and sat himself in Oikawa’s lap on the couch. “How was your _date_?”

 

            Kuroo looked over the top of his phone to glare at Suga. “I told everyone to stop calling it that.”

 

            Suga shrugged. “I missed dinner, didn’t get the memo. How was your, eh, _meeting_ with Kenma?”

 

            “He told Kuroo the secret to level forty-one!” Bokuto called from the kitchen. He appeared in the doorway a moment later. “You know he’s on eighty-three? He’s gotta be, like, a genius. Not even ‘Kaashi can get to sixty.”

 

            “That’s impressive,” Suga said, eyebrows raised a fraction. “Oh, hey, did you save any mochi ice cream for me?”

 

            Bokuto silently retreated to the kitchen.

 

            “I bet no one even tried to stop him,” Suga huffed. He returned his attention to Kuroo. “So? Kenma?”

 

            “I don’t know what you want from me,” Kuroo said. “He helped me with the section I’ve been having trouble with, and that was that. No big deal.” He tried to start back in on reading his book, but of course, that was a useless attempt.

 

            “You can’t tell me that was _it_ ,” Suga said. “He helped you with that puzzle game, didn’t he?”

 

            “He was playing it when I finished my work. I just asked him how to get past that one level is all,” Kuroo said. “We didn’t talk about anything else. Just astronomy and level forty-one. Not a date, not even remotely exciting.”

 

            Suga sighed and leaned back against Oikawa. “Disappointing.”

 

            “When is Tetsu-chan not?”

 

            “Wow, fuck you, too.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Send Draft?**

**[Yes]** **No**

**Email Sent**

 

* * *

 

 

**1 New Email**

 

Kuroo,

 

Up, then left and down again. Gets you on the right path.

Next time you can just text me if you have a question about that. More likely I’ll get back to you quickly.

+XX-X-XXXX-XXXX

 

Kenma

 

* * *

 

 

            Kenma somehow became easier to talk to after that, and as a result, became more present in Kuroo’s life. It started with asking him to review his paper, and then to go over missed test questions the week after. They walked to the café again, and this time, Kenma didn’t bother Kuroo when he paid for his pie.

 

            It was back to the corner booth, tucked away with papers and notes and Kenma’s laptop — covered in stickers for different video games and brands and possibly one with a quote from one of Kuroo’s favorite books. While Kenma marked up essays, Kuroo looked over the answer key for the most recent test, to see why he missed what he missed.

 

            He decided Kenma looked pretty there, in the early afternoon sunlight.

 

            _Just a crush, that’s all_.

 

            Before he could get too distracted, he looked back down at the exam key, and pushed all thoughts of how nicely Kenma’s sweater fit out of his mind. Now was not the time.

 

            “I still don’t get this question,” Kuroo said after a moment. He turned the paper so Kenma could read it, pointing to the part he was stuck on. “Shouldn’t that be a neutron star?”

 

            Kenma carefully explained the question, taking time with each of the components and all of the answers, and Kuroo listened intently. They continued like that for a while. Kuroo asked about things he didn’t fully understand, and Kenma gave thorough reasoning for everything. He gave Kuroo his paper back, fully marked over, and he explained all his comments there, too. He was polite and gentle and he looked _really_ nice as the light started to fade. Kuroo took everything he said to heart.

 

            The next week, as Kuroo was walking to volleyball practice, he told Bokuto about the terrible, awful, beautiful joke Kenma had made in class, that he was the only one to laugh at it. He talked to Oikawa about how neat his notes were, how pretty his handwriting was. How pretty his face was. He texted Kenma about the puzzle game. Kenma responded immediately, every time.

 

            Fridays in the café became a regular thing.

 

            Kenma was, actually, incredibly easy to talk to. Their conversations slowly branched out from astronomy, to volleyball and video games and the cat that everyone knew one of the baseball players was keeping in his room. They both made an equal amount of lame space puns.

 

            They both laughed at their lame space puns.

 

            Kenma had a nice smile.

 

            Halfway through November, they ran into each other outside of class. Bokuto was with Kuroo, struggling over the puzzle game while he listened to Kuroo talk about the book Oohira had lent him. He looked away from Bokuto, and his eyes locked onto Kenma, coming their way down the sidewalk. Kenma had been typing something on his phone, but happened to glance up at just that moment, and offered a small wave.

 

            Kuroo waved back.

 

            Kenma stopped. Kuroo stopped.

 

            (Bokuto stopped four steps later, when he realized Kuroo was no longer with him.)

 

            “Oi, Kenma, what’re you up to?” Kuroo said. All sense of awkwardness was gone at this point. He’d forgotten, nearly, about the email, had moved past wondering whether Kenma found him awkward. It was comfortable, now. It was _nice_.

 

            “Physics assignment,” Kenma replied. “Got tired of working in the library, though. I was going to find someplace else to finish it.”

 

            Kuroo dutifully ignored the look Bokuto was giving him and grinned down at Kenma. “You can come back to mine, if you want. Oikawa’s supposed to be out, and Bo’s going to Akaashi’s anyway, so it’ll be quiet. I have shitty ramen and potentially expired tea.”

 

            Kenma snorted a laugh, and Kuroo’s smile stretched wider. “Sure.”

 

            Bokuto fell into step with them as they carried on the path back to the dorm. He gave Kuroo another look over the top of Kenma’s head, which Kuroo paid no mind to, instead opting to talk about the mug Yaku had broken that morning. He gave enough details that Kenma could get the story, too, and it was nice.

 

            It was really nice.

 

            It was definitely more than just a passing crush.

 

            They split up between the dorm buildings, with Kuroo taking Bokuto’s gym bag to bring up to the room, and Kenma saying, “Tell Keiji I said hello.”

 

            Figured, that Kenma knew Akaashi.

 

            They settled at the kitchen table, which was still half-covered with Oikawa’s notes and drafts of papers. Clearly, he’d left in the middle of working. Kuroo tried his best to move it enough to make room for both him and Kenma without mixing up any of the pages.

 

            They worked quietly for a while. Kenma took occasional breaks to check his phone, answer texts, and Kuroo made sure to make a pack of the better ramen, and put on some tea for them both.

 

            It was one of the more enjoyable afternoons Kuroo had had.

 

* * *

 

 

**SMS MESSAGE**

TO: Kenma

What did the alien say to the kitten?

 

FROM: Kenma

?

 

TO: Kenma

Take me to your litter

 

FROM: Kenma

oh my god

 

TO: Kenma

Brilliant, I know

 

TO: Kenma

Okay, but serious question

 

TO: Kenma

What’s the secret to 71

 

FROM: Kenma

go around the back, down, left

 

TO: Kenma

You’re a hero

 

* * *

 

 

            He finally slipped as November started to come to a close. They’d started meeting regularly after class, and started talking more. Kenma, Kuroo learned, was majoring in astrophysics, had made friends with the baseball player just to get to the cat, hated mismatched socks. He spent his spare time playing video games, was _astronomically_ smart, had gotten past the ninetieth level of the puzzle game. He had an incredibly pretty laugh.

 

            Kuroo liked him a lot.

 

            They were in the café after class one Monday, Kenma going through emails and Kuroo filling in a worksheet Kenma had given him to help prepare for the upcoming test. It was quiet and peaceful and Kenma had gotten apple pie again. Kuroo had realized after the first few weeks that it was the only thing he’d ever seen Kenma order, and Kenma had simply told him that it was his favorite.

 

            “Hey, Kenma.”

 

            “Kuro.”

 

            “What kind of fish live in space?”

 

            Kenma looked up from his laptop and narrowed his eyes at Kuroo. “Starfish. Shut up and finish your worksheet.”

 

            “Yes, dear.”

 

            It’d been pure impulse. It was his standard response to Suga and Yaku whenever they started to get on him about his work and taking care of himself. But it was not what he’d meant to say to Kenma right then.

 

            Thankfully, Kenma didn’t give any of the reactions Kuroo was anticipating. Instead, he simply told him, “Don’t call me dear.”

 

            And then, Kuroo decided, _fuck it._

 

            “Yes, darling.”

 

            “ _Kuro_.”

 

            “What am I supposed to call you then?”

 

            Kenma leveled Kuroo with a flat stare. “Try my name.”

 

            Kuroo hummed and looked back down at the worksheet. He got halfway through the next question before he spoke up again. “What about kitten?”

 

            “ _Kitten?_ “ Kenma echoed.

 

            “You kind of look like one, you know? Almost like that baseball player’s actually. Are you related?”

 

            “ _Your worksheet._ “

 

            “Sure, sure.”

 

* * *

 

 

            “Busy today?” Kuroo asked after class a week later. At some point, he’d taken to waiting for Kenma after the end of class each week, even if they weren’t going to study together. He always at least walked with Kenma out the building.

 

            “Not really,” Kenma shrugged. “Why?”

 

            “Oikawa and Bokuto are playing Mario Party back at the dorm, if you wanted to come join us,” Kuroo said. “By which, of course, I mean, if you wanted to team up with me and kick their asses.”

 

            “Sure.”

 

            They walked back together, Kuroo talking about the book he’d just started reading, Kenma nodding as he listened and playing the puzzle game on his phone. It was comfortable. _Kenma_ was comfortable. Kuroo kind of wanted to kiss him.

 

            Halfway up the stairs to the dorm, Kuroo glanced over at him. “Hey, kitten, what do aliens make for lunch?”

 

            “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice the _kitten_?” Kenma said.

 

            “No, I was sure you’d catch it. Come on, what do aliens make for lunch?”

 

            Kuroo grinned. “Unidentified frying objects.”

 

            “You’re such a nerd,” Kenma said, but Kuroo caught his smile.

 

            He really wanted to kiss him.

 

            “Literally yesterday, you texted me an _essay_ about Mass Effect,” Kuroo said instead. It wasn’t an essay, sure, but it was definitely one of the longest things Kenma had ever sent him.

 

            “Sorry for being opinionated,” Kenma snorted.

 

            “Apology accepted.” He stopped in front of the dorm door to pull his key from his pocket. “I mean it when I say I want to team up. Just _once_ , I’d like to beat Oikawa.”

 

            “Okay,” Kenma said.

 

            Kuroo led Kenma off to the side to his room, just to drop their bags, before heading out to where Oikawa was shouting profanities at Bokuto. Suga sat back on the couch laughing at them both.

 

            “Kuroo, you’re home!” Suga said. “Oh, how I’ve missed you. Oikawa’s stopped giving me attention, it’s truly saddening.”

 

            “You’ve been giving me shit for the last _hour_ , Koushi, you can shut your mouth,” Oikawa snapped back.

 

            Suga grinned. “Love you, too.”

 

            “Kenma!” Bokuto looked positively elated to see Kuroo hadn’t come back alone. “You’re here!”

 

            “Hello, Koutarou,” Kenma said, looking happy to see him as well.

 

            “Oh! _Oh!_ “ Suga tore his gaze from Oikawa to stop on Kuroo’s guest. “Hello! You’re Kenma, then? It’s lovely to meet you, I’m Suga. That brute’s Oikawa.”

 

            “ _Brute!_ Kou-chan!”

 

            “Nice to meet you,” Kenma said.

 

            “We’re joining in when you finish this game,” Kuroo said. “I intend to kick your asses.”

 

            “You _wish_ ,” Oikawa said. “You’ve never once beaten me.”

 

            “I’m going to,” Kuroo promised. “Just you wait.”

 

            Kenma melded perfectly with Kuroo’s group. He seemed to know Bokuto already, very likely through Akaashi. He made polite conversation with Suga while Bokuto and Oikawa finished their game, and he let Oikawa ask him about his major and about an anime they apparently both watched. It was nice and happy and comfortable, and every few minutes, Kenma leaned closer to Kuroo to look at the puzzle game on his phone and to give him the occasional tip.

 

            By the time Oikawa and Bokuto had finished — Oikawa the victor, naturally — Kenma had shifted close enough that there was hardly a space left between them.

 

            Kuroo was heavily considering the implications of kissing him.

 

            “Boku-chan, can you get them controllers?” Oikawa said. “I want a snack.”

 

            Kuroo didn’t dare move from his spot for fear of losing his closeness with Kenma, and Kenma didn’t bother shifting either.

 

            “Tetsu, do either of you want tea?” Oikawa called from the kitchen.

 

            Kuroo looked to Kenma, who nodded. “Yes, please,” he called back, before returning his attention to Kenma. “Oi, kitten, what’s an alien’s favorite drink?”

 

            “Gravi-tea?” Kenma tried.

 

            Kuroo beamed. “Gravi-tea.”

 

            “Kuro. Do you take constructive criticism?” Kenma said.

 

            “From you, sure.”

 

            “That one fucking sucked.”

 

            Kuroo let out a surprised laugh, eyes going wide. Bokuto broke down cackling, and Suga stood and walked to the kitchen, but not before Kuroo caught him giggling.

 

            “Wow!” Kuroo cried. “ _Wow!_ That one hurt.”

 

            “Sorry,” Kenma shrugged.

 

            “No you’re not,” Kuroo said, bumping their shoulders together. “You meant every word. _Wow_ , Kenma.”

 

            Kenma was smiling — _grinning_ — and Kuroo’s breath caught in his throat. Oh, this wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair at all.

 

            Amazingly enough, it only got worse as the afternoon went on. Kenma did team up with Kuroo, much to Oikawa’s dismay (“That’s cheating!” “Teams are perfectly within the rules, ‘Kawa.”), and he also managed to slide closer to Kuroo, to the point where any small movement left their elbows bumping and shoulders brushing. And Kenma wouldn’t stop _laughing_ , over his jokes, Suga’s taunts, Oikawa’s frustration.

 

            It was too much.

 

            By the time they started to wind down after a second game (because Oikawa insisted he could beat Kenma this time) (he couldn’t), Kuroo was done. He couldn’t take another minute of being pressed so close to Kenma, couldn’t bear another shockingly quick remark. Thankfully, Kenma seemed pretty done as well.

 

            “I’ve got to get back to my dorm,” he said, rising off the couch. “I have to finish an assignment for my literature class.”

 

            “I’ll walk you back,” Kuroo said. He ignored the pointed look Oikawa was giving him. He’d deal with all his commentary later.

 

            “Thank you very much for having me,” Kenma told the rest of them. “It was fun.”

 

            “Come by again whenever,” Suga replied. “It was nice having you.”

 

            Kenma collected his bag from Kuroo’s room, and then they headed out the door to Kenma’s building. There was nothing he wanted more than to kiss him.

 

            “You really should come by again,” Kuroo told him as they made their way down the stairs. “It’s fun not losing to Oikawa. It’s fun playing with _you_.”

 

            “Invite me again and I will,” Kenma said.

 

            “Mm, okay, this weekend, then. You can come over, play some Mario Kart. Yaku and Oohira should be around, too, it’ll be fun.”

 

            “Sure.” Kenma offered him a smile, and that nailed Kuroo’s coffin shut.

 

            He kept quiet the rest of the walk to Kenma’s dorm, lost in his thoughts. Realistically, he had to say something at some point. He was long past crushing on Kenma, had fallen into something far more severe. But the words kept getting caught in his throat, and all he could manage was a gentle goodbye before Kenma was slipping into his dorm.

 

* * *

 

 

            He had to do it before winter break. He didn’t want to leave it hanging over him for the entire month they had off. He wanted to get it out of the way, wanted Kenma to know how he felt. If Kenma rejected him, fine, okay, sure. It would hurt, but at least Kuroo wouldn’t be seeing him three days a week anymore. But if Kenma reciprocated?

 

            Kuroo groaned into the couch’s throw pillow. This was too much to think about.

 

            “You call him _kitten_ ,” Oikawa pointed out. “He _lets you_ call him kitten. There’s no way for it to go wrong.”

 

            “Just rip it off like a band-aid,” Oohira said. “It’ll work out just fine.”

 

            “He could _reject me_ ,” Kuroo muttered. “Then I won’t even have him as a _friend_.”

 

            “He’s not going to reject you,” Yaku said. “Tell him. Before one of us does it for you.”

 

            Kuroo flipped over to glare at him. “You wouldn’t _dare_.”

 

            “You know we all would,” Oikawa said. “Be realistic, Tetsu-chan.”

 

            “You’re all the worst.”

 

            But he knew they were all right. He had to tell Kenma, and when he did, it was going to be fine. It’d work out the way it was meant to, and regardless as to what that meant, Kuroo was going to have to live with it. It was fine. It was fine. It was—

 

            “What do planets like to read?”

 

            Kuroo turned to look at Kenma as they walked out of class later that week. He had his hands stuffed into his coat pockets, too cold for his phone. A shame, since Kuroo had taken to watching him work through a new puzzle game they’d found. He’d taken to watching Kenma in general — he’d sit and peer over his shoulder at his DS when they hung out on the weekend, and he’d lean close to see what book he was reading when they sat at the café after class. Part of it was testing the waters, seeing if there was a limit to how close Kenma would let him (so far, there wasn’t). But it was also that Kuroo was genuinely interested in whatever Kenma was doing.

 

            “I don’t know, what do planets like to read, kitten?” Kuroo said. That was the other thing — Kenma had stopped commenting on _kitten_. He just let it slide now, which was, well, incredible. It gave Kuroo a little more confidence that he wouldn’t be immediately turned down if he confessed.

 

            “Comet books,” Kenma said.

 

            Kuro snorted a laugh. “And you call my jokes bad?”

 

            “Your jokes are bad.”

 

            “Ouch.”

 

            Kenma paused as they exited the science building. “Do you want to study at my dorm today? Shigeru should be out for the weekend.”

 

            Kuroo nearly choked on nothing but air. “Sure, yeah. Okay.”

 

            He followed Kenma up to his dorm, doing his best not to comment on the fact that Kenma bypassed the small central room — where there was plenty of space for them both to work — to go to his own bedroom.

 

            It was smaller than Kuroo’s, but neater. Everything was in perfect order, and unlike Akaashi’s room, everything made sense to be where it was. It was actually rather nice.

 

            Kenma dropped into a spot at the head of his bed, folding his legs and wrestling his laptop out of his bag. When Kuroo still stood in the doorway, he sent him a look, and Kuroo shuffled over to join him. He sat on the other end of the bed, trying to leave a proper amount of space between them.

 

            That space, in the span of the couple hours they worked quietly, slowly disappeared, until they were both leaning back against the wall, knees brushing. Kuroo had to say something.

 

            “What kind of plates do they use in space?” he said. Not what he was supposed to say, but it got Kenma’s attention.

 

            “You tell me,” Kenma said.

 

            “Flying saucers.” Kuroo grinned, but it shook when Kenma actually smiled back.

 

            “That’s so lame, Kuro.”

 

            “You smiled at it.”

 

            “Shut up.”

 

            “Make me.”

 

            And just like that, all the air got sucked out of the room. Kenma was looking at him with a steady gaze, smile slipping into something more serious. Kuroo’s fingers started to tap against his leg.

 

            “You want me to?” Kenma murmured.

 

            “Please.”

 

            Kuroo wasn’t sure which one of them leaned forward to close the gap, or if it was both of them, or if it was neither and space and time just shifted to accommodate them, but suddenly his lips were brushing Kenma’s, soft and careful and he couldn’t really remember what he was so concerned about in the first place. They fit together in a way that was something akin to perfect, and Kuroo’s heart was ready to beat out of his chest by the time Kenma’s fingers were gripping at the collar of his shirt to pull him closer.

 

            There was nothing to worry about. There really, truly wasn’t.

 

            Kenma was first to pull back, gasping in a desperate breath. “You’re . . .”

 

            “Out of this world?” Kuroo offered.

 

            “Deplorable,” Kenma huffed. But Kuroo could feel him smiling against his mouth, and really, that was all he could’ve asked for.

 

            “I was thinking stellar,” Kuroo said.

 

            “Embarrassing.”

 

            “You like me,” Kuroo teased. “You can’t take that back.”

 

            “Not true. I’m only keeping you around because I’m waiting for the stapler you owe me,” Kenma said.

 

            Kuroo fell back with a groan. “Please don’t bring that up. I can’t believe you remember that.”

 

            “How could I not?” Kenma snorted. “It was your most shining moment.”

 

            “God, no, we’re not doing this right now,” Kuroo said. “Shut up, come here, we’re not talking about that.”

 

            “I have to say, I prefer kitten to Kenmo.”

 

            “ _Kenma_.”

 

            He flashed a small grin before finally pulling Kuroo back in. This, Kuroo decided, was something he could get used to.

 

            Absolutely.

**Author's Note:**

> here's a thing i decided i had to write after seeing this [tweet](https://twitter.com/jabbyo3/status/800808790350139392)
> 
> this got a little ooc and also not proofread bc it's like 8000 words and you know what that's okay
> 
> thank you very much for reading!! here's my [tumblr](http://reynclds07.tumblr.com/) if you're at all interested!


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